


the thirteen times you didn't kiss her and the one time you did

by queercarmilla



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - Fandom
Genre: Cute Hollstein, F/F, POV Carmilla
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queercarmilla/pseuds/queercarmilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of one shots depicting whipped af carmilla and tiny gay laura being clueless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You don’t know how your night came to be or who convinced you to come, but regardless of the events leading up to the present, you’re here.

You’re seated on a carpeted floor, teenagers sitting around you and form a circle. There’s maybe about ten or twelve of them, a mix of boys and girls. There are a few empty spots so you assume there are still more people to join. In the middle of the circle is a chessboard without any pieces.

Out of the corner of your eye you see one of the jocks, Kirsch, — the one who’s throwing the party you believe — finishing off a beer before placing it on the chessboard.

You’re beginning to seriously question why you’re here or participating in this childish game. Honestly, how old were they?

A loud burp erupts from the left of you, followed by a roar of laughter.

Clearly most here were still children.

You sigh and look around the room. Your eyes fall onto a particular person making her way to the circle and you’re suddenly reminded of why you’re here. You wonder why you even questioned it in the first place.

Accompanied by two unenthusiastic looking gingers and an escaped beast from the Lost World of Amazonian Women, her smile is bright enough to put some light on your usually black clothes.

She sits down in the circle across from you. Over the loud music you can’t hear her too well but from the pleading look on her face and the sighs and head rolls from the ginger twins, you assume she’s trying to get them to sit with her. The look of pure happiness and innocence on her face when they agree is enough to make your stomach flutter.

You take a long sip of your screwdriver to force it away.

A loud throat clearing grabs your attention. “Alright then, Sexy Ladies and Bros alike, might I welcome you to what is probably going to be the _hottest_ game of Spin the Bottle ever.” Kirsch is standing over the group of teens, bottle in hand, smiling like a doofus as a bunch of boys cheer and girls giggle.

You take another drink. There’s no way you can do this sober.

Your attention is momentarily caught by the girl sitting across from you.

Maybe you’ll stay sober enough to be able to remember if anything interesting happens.

One of the jocks is the first to spin — surprise there. He lands on some dumb girl from the cheerleading squad and you roll your eyes. _What a cliché_ , you think as the guy is rewarded with pats on his back. He then leans over to suck face with Brittany, or Tiffany, or whatever the hell her name is. You could really care less about who she was honestly. You keep mostly to yourself anyways, no need to know names.

As they part the boys hoot and the girls giggle, immediately whispering to Cheery Chick if the kiss was good. She just smiles and shrugs before the next person is ushered to spin and take the turn. All the girls shut up and watch the bottle, probably hoping it’ll land on them.

You think for a second what all these girls see in the football jocks. Sure, they’re built well and are sort of attractive you guess, in the right lighting. You wonder what your reaction would be if it ended up landing on you.

Another witness of tongue slobbering all over a poor girls face is enough to confirm that yup — you’re definitely gay.

//

The game goes by slowly, nothing very interesting happening. The highlight of the game so far is when Kirsch spins and by some miracle it lands on Danny Lawrence.

It’s not that the fact that you hate Danny — although you do — that makes the turn increasingly interesting. It’s the fact knowing Kirsch and the Wolf get along worse than you two do.

After long minutes of complaining and stalling, a peck suffices for the rules and the game moved on.

//

You should really just leave now; you still can’t remember why you came here in the first place. Parties are so not your thing.

Sure, you guess you’re sort of popular, if you could even call it that. You try to keep to yourself as much as you can, not wanting to get involved with the ridiculous standards of high school teen life. You’ve been there and done that. Many times. Too many actually.

Maybe it’s your mysterious persona that drew Kirsch to inviting you to this thing. You’d have to be a complete idiot if you didn’t notice how he basically drools like a slobbering dog when he talks to you, his eyes roaming over your body, never once focusing on your face.

You can’t blame him really, you know you’re hot.

And he knows you’re gay, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

//

You take out your phone and check the time. 1:36 AM. You don’t have a curfew but you like your sleep. And considering this meathead decided to throw a party on a Sunday, you suppose you should be somewhat well rested for school tomorrow. Not that you even need sleep really, but it helps with the concentration and makes you feel stronger.

You decide it’s time to go, that the night can only go downhill from here on out, when a sudden burst of male cheering stops you.

Along with the roars of clapping and hollering are shouts of “Fuckin’ finally!”, “About time something interesting happening!”, and a single, “Oh shit, Carmilla doesn’t look too happy.”

Wait, what?

You peer up from your phone and look around the crowd. You’re unsure of what’s happening since you weren’t paying attention, but from what you can gather, someone’s landed on you.

 _Great_ , you think, wondering why you didn’t leave earlier. You’re such an idiot.

There’s no indication of who the spinner was until you realize the look that Danny is giving you. Her eyes are narrowed with a deep crease between her brows. Oh God, it wasn’t her that spun, was it?

No. She’d put up a bigger fight. Probably bigger than she did with Kirsch. But if it wasn’t her, then who…

Your eyes land on Laura. She’s wearing a shy smile as she tucks her hair behind her ear, all while looking at you. Her cheeks are a deep shade of red.

You feel your stomach flutter.

Thank God you’re pretty much immune to blushing.

Before you know what’s happening, Laura is crawling over to you. She’s drunk, clearly. There’s no doubt. Something about the fact makes you smile though. Seeing a small, naïve Laura Hollis completely hammered, crawling on her hands and knees, her face only inches from yours —

"I-I have to go," you say suddenly, your voice is barely above a whisper. You look at Laura and she watches you with a puzzled face, almost as if she didn’t understand the words together in that sentence. "I have to go," you repeat.

You scramble to your feet, ignoring the boo’s and complains from the men in the circle. Like you could even call them men.

You make a quick getaway through the crowds of teens and nearly run out the door, not bothering to close it behind you.

As you escape, you don’t look back once to see the boys throwing a fit, how relieved the Wolf is that you’re gone, or look of disappointment on Laura’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part two of thirteen times.

You walk through the halls of Silas High with your head hanging low, your hangover making its presence extremely known.

This is why you hate drinking on a school night. Because no matter what remedies to cure a hangover you’ve learned over the years, they never work. Maybe it has something to do with the whole _dead_ thing, but still. You would’ve thought that someone would have come up with a solution to curing a regrettable night of drinking for people like you.

Unfortunately you aren’t so lucky.

The lockers closing around you sound like gunshots in your ears and your head throbs. You knew you should have taken aspirin before you left home but of course, being the stubborn girl you are, you decided to try and fight away the pain all on your own.

Yeah. You’re _definitely_ not so lucky.

You get to your locker and quickly circle in your combo. It opens with ease and you throw your bag onto the floor, emptying out unneeded books and papers you won’t need for the first few periods, and you replace them with the books for your first class.

The emptying halls around you tell you class is going to start soon and you groan. As much as you love philosophy, you aren’t really looking forward to it right now. Banging your head against the wall sounds like a better idea honestly.

The first bell rings as you zip up your bag and you close your locker. You yelp suddenly as you notice someone standing next to you.

Although it’s not _just_ anyone.

It’s Laura.

Like this morning couldn’t get any worse.

She’s wearing a shy smile, similar to the one she wore last night when the bottle landed on you. Your stomach flutters and you force it away. You seriously don’t need to be reliving that memory right now.

“Hey,” she says, gently swaying on the balls of her heels.

She’s nervous, you can tell. From the way her hands are clasped tightly at the straps of her bag and the way her cheeks are glowing red, there’s definitely something up with her.

You nod in response and her smile falters the slightest bit.

 _Goddamnit_.

“Hey,” you say back. You really didn’t want to get pulled into a conversation with her but with her looking like a kicked puppy, how could you just walk away?

Easily. Just one foot in front of the other.

But of course you won’t do that.

There’s a pause of silence.

“You wanna walk to class?” she asks. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks up at you, her cheeks still pink.

You hesitate, and then you slowly nod.

One bad decision after the other.

//

You really are an idiot, aren’t you?

Here you are, walking to class with Laura Hollis. Laura _freaking_ Hollis.

Laura Hollis; the girl you’ve had the biggest crush on since you first laid eyes on her.

Laura Hollis; the girl whose smile could end world hunger.

Laura Hollis; the girl who’s so naïve and innocent no one _can’t_ not like her.

Laura Hollis; the girl who can act like a complete idiot and still be adorable.

Laura Hollis; the girl who you almost _kissed_ last night.

You shiver.

“So…” she drawls out, kicking her foot up as she steps. “Party last night was fun.”

Out of all the topics in the world to talk about — and the possibility of just not saying _anything_ at all and walking in silence — she had to bring the party up.

You really hate your life right now.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to say back, because really, what else are you supposed to say? _Yeah, it really was! Especially the part where we almost kissed. Boy, that was a real hoot!_

Yeah, so not happening.

You walk in silence again.

“Why did you leave so early?”

_God fucking damnit, was it really so hard to just walk and not say anything?_

You internally roll your eyes.

It’s Laura Hollis. Of course it’s impossible for her to shut up. She’s always talking.

Not that you don’t mind her voice. You just could do without it right now.

You shrug. “School night. Didn’t want to stay out late and be exhausted today.” Your excuse is pathetic, you know. And judging by the skeptical look Laura is giving you, she probably knows it, too.

You shrug again.

Laura seems to take your answer because she doesn’t say anything in response. Thank God.

You turn a corner and you see your class. Suddenly you’ve never been happier for philosophy in your entire life. Which is saying a lot considering you’ve had a _very_ long life.

“This is me,” you say, and she nods. You can tell she wants to say something from the way she stalls around, bouncing on her heels again. You raise a brow. “Something on your mind, Hollis?”

She immediately perks up, her eyes like a deer in headlights. She seems caught off guard and you have to consciously force yourself not to smile at the adorable face she’s wearing. That wouldn’t help the situation at hand.

“I uh…” She trails off, biting her lip.

You bite your own unconsciously.

She looks down and takes in a deep breath. Silent.

Just as you think God has given you a miracle and for once Laura Hollis speechless, she suddenly vomits out words saying:

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about last night and when we almost kissed. I didn’t even ask you if it was okay. I just assumed because, I mean, you were sitting in the circle so I thought you’d be okay with it but you weren’t, and I think that’s why you left. So I’m sorry if I ruined your night, I really didn’t mean to, I swear! I didn’t mean to drink as much as I did which is _probably_ the reason I was playing the game in the first place. See, if I was sober I never would’ve done that.” She pauses; you just raise your brows. “N-Not that I didn’t want to kiss you! I mean, you’re obviously attractive and, — Oh God, is that awkward? I’m sorry, you probably already felt really uncomfortable and now I just made it worse, and —“

Before you know it your hands are on your mouth, covering it, forcing her to stop speaking. You feel a breath of air blowing against the inside of your palm and a shiver runs through your body. She looks up at you, her eyes wide and piercing your own. Your breath catches.

You had successfully got her to stop rambling, which was your intention, but now you have no idea what to say. You take your hands off her mouth and place them on her shoulders, which you immediately regret. Of course she had to be wearing a tank top today. Your fingers are already getting warmer as they press against her bare skin. You can’t deny the tingles that are coursing through your body right now.

It’s been at least fifteen seconds now and you’re both still staring at each other.

Your mouth opens to say something — _anything_ — before the second bell interrupts.

It startles both of you and you jump back, your hands now by your sides. _Thank God_. You didn’t know how much longer you could’ve continued standing there, your eyes locked with hers and your hands touching her warm skin, before you just leaned in and —

“I-I’ll see you later!” Laura says, hesitating a moment longer before turning on her heels and running down the hall.

You continue standing in front of your classroom, watching the smaller girl run as if her life depended on it.

You watch her until she rounds a corner and disappears. You shake your head and turn, walking into your classroom.

You don’t forget the feeling of her lips against your hand for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part three of thirteen times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a champ at updating, aren't I?

You’re sitting in the back row of philosophy, barely paying attention. You’ve taken this course so many times _you_ could be the one teaching it. And honestly, you’d be doing a better job than the actual teacher.

Your teacher, Mr. Partison, is yapping away about the works of three different theorists. As much as you try to help it — and honestly, you don’t try that hard — you can’t keep yourself from laughing at most of what he says since it’s just _so wrong_.

After a few call outs from your troll of a teacher to tell you to keep quiet, you stop paying attention altogether. Which, of course, results in _another_ calling out, asking if you’re paying following along in the textbook.

You’re not.

You can’t help yourself though. You could care less about philosophy and Socrates and Plato or anyone right now.

Well…almost anyone.

You haven’t gotten Laura out of your mind since class started.

You’re staring down at your phone, an empty text conversation between you and Laura open, comparing the pros and cons of texting her.

 **Pro** : It’ll make the last twenty minutes of class more sufferable.

 **Pro** : You get to talk to her.

 **Pro** : You won’t have to actually see her in person and embarrass yourself again.

 **Pro** : Maybe she’ll send you a selfie in class. Teen girls nowadays do that, right?

 **Con** : …..

Well, that’s enough convincing for you.

You quickly type out a few words and press send before you can over think what to say. You read it over as the text bubble turns blue.

 _Carmilla (9:12 am)_ : Were you late for class?

You want to punch yourself. Of _course_ she was late for class. While the second bell was ringing you both were still standing in front of _your_ classroom, looking at each other, your hands on her shoulders, just about to —

Your phone vibrates.

 _Laura (9:15 am)_ : yea :( mrs brosten got really mad and gave me detention

Like you couldn’t hate yourself anymore than you already do.

Laura Hollis has never gotten a detention before. Never. Probably because she was totally a teacher’s pet but also because she was always on time.

Except for today. She was late today.  And she got detention.

Because of you.

Your phone vibrates again.

 _Laura (9:16 am)_ : did u get in trouble?

You shake your head and sigh.

 _Carmilla (9:18)_ : Of course not. I wasn’t the one who decided to walk with me to class and was late because of it, remember, cupcake?

You squint your eyes at your somewhat harsh text.

 _Carmilla (9:18)_ : I’m sorry you have detention.

Much better.

You look back up at the clock and sigh in relief, only a few minutes left. Everyone around you is already packing their books into their bags and you follow suit.

It’s not till you’re seating in your next class that you get a text back.

 _Laura (9:22)_ : it’s okay, it was nice walking with you :)

Your breath catches in your throat and you have to reread the words a few times over before you finally register what they mean. And when the realization hits you, a smile creeps onto your lips.

You’re quick to wipe it off though. There’s no one person in this school that would have the pleasure and blackmail material of you smiling at a _text message_.

The bell rings before you can type back a reply and you quickly gather up your things. You speed out of the class, not making eye contact with anyone as you walk the familiar path to your next class. You take your seat at the back of the class, as per usual, and take out your phone to text Laura back.

Before you know it your teacher walks into the room and throws a stack of quizzes onto the desk. You sigh and quickly type a response to Laura.

 _Carmilla (9:30)_ : What room is your detention in?

//

You’re beginning to wonder if you’re a masochist.

Out of all the places you should or _shouldn’t_ be during the lunch period, you’ve decided to be here.

Instead of heading into the ominous woods right outside the school, you’re here.

Instead of hunting down a small animal to quench your hunger, you’re here.

Instead of sitting at the bottle of a large tree smoking a cigarette and reading an old book, you’re here.

Instead of _anything_ , you’re _here_ , standing outside room 221, a box of cookies in your hands.

You’re watching through the window in the closed door as Laura scribbles onto a piece of paper. You don’t see any teacher in the room but even if you did, would that stop you?

You push open the door and walk in. You hide your amusement as you see Laura’s face go from confusion, to surprise, to happy beyond all fucking belief.

"Carmilla!" she says, the smile on her lips large. Your knees feel weak.

"Cupcake," you greet back, smirking.

She blushes.

Damn, you’re good.

You pull up a chair from the desk next to Laura’s and sit on it, your left boot immediately propping up to the edge of the desk.

Laura’s face turns to confusion for a moment. “Wait, did you get detention, too?” she asks, and goddamnit that bunched up face is much too adorable for it to be legal.

You shake your head no, opening up the cookies and taking one out. You bite into it and you’re instantly glad you went with the double chocolate chip rather than the rainbow one. You suppose that would have be slightly too obvious.

The blonde girl continues to look at you, confusion still written all over her face. “Then… Why are you here?” she asks. You just look at her. She blushes furiously. “Not that it’s not great seeing you! It is! Truly, believe me. I just —” she fumbles for the right words. “If you don’t have detention…why are you _in_ detention?”

You shrug your shoulders to buy a little bit of time to think because you have no clue what to say.

You decide on:

"I felt bad for getting you in trouble so I figured I’d stop by and bring some snacks. You like cookies, right?" you ask. You already know the answer to that question, she loves cookies. That’s why you brought them.

Laura just nods, unsure of what to say you assume. She looks embarrassed, maybe even a little shy. You see the red tinge on her cheeks and it takes everything in you not to smile.

You see her eyes flicking back and forth between you and the bag of cookies and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Just take one for fucks sake," you say with a smile. A small one. One that you’ve perfected over the years. You can’t remember the last time you actually genuinely smiled.

Laura blushes once again, the redness against her pale cheeks even more evident, and reaches forward to grab a cookie. No, two cookies. Three? You can’t even tell honestly, she’s holding too many.

You watch as she takes a bite out of one of the dozen she has cradled in her arms. It takes a few seconds, but she smiles large and takes another bite.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t watching the way her lips moved as she bit into the cookie, how her tongue poked out to lick her lips or scoop up some remaining cookie crumbs at the corner of her mouth.

God, you’re in too deep.

//

The hour of detention goes by surprisingly quickly.

It’s spent with Laura chowing down on the box of cookies — literally, the _entire box_ — and with you reading a book.

Well, trying to at least.

You’ve counted eight times Laura’s attempted to ask you what it is you’re reading. And every time she asks you say the same thing: it’s an old book, one you borrowed from your mother that she obtained when she was younger.

Laura doesn’t need to know that was well before the 1900s so she wouldn’t have any clue what the book was.

A blaring bell pulls you out of the tenth time you’ve tried reading the same sentence over again and you sigh, putting the book into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder.

You look at Laura and furrow your brows. There’s a look on her face, one that hasn’t been there at all the entire lunch period. It’s not confusion, or anger, it’s…

It’s _sadness_. (You imagine this is the point where, if you lived in a cartoon, a lightbulb would appear above your head.)

"Hey," you say gently, leaning forward on the desk. You duck down to meet her eyes. "what’s wrong? Your face isn’t looking too good."

Laura chuckles and manages a smile, one so beautiful it actually makes you feel warm.

God, if that’s what you get in retirm for making shitty jokes you definitely need to start doing that more often.

You look at her expectantly. “So…?” you trail off, gesturing your hand out to her for her to give an explanation.

"Oh," she says softly, nodding her head. "It’s just… It was nice hanging out with you. I guess I’m a little bummed it’s already over," she says, the softness in her voice carries throughout the sentence and she looks up to you shyly.

It’s time like these where you’re fucking thankful you don’t blush easily.

"Yeah, well," you shrug and lean back, attempting to act cool and nonchalant. "You’re not _entirely_ awful I guess," you say, a straight face the only thing covering your expression.

Still, Laura laughs and smiles. You melt a little bit.

The sound of students in the halls brings you back down to earth and you remember you need to get to class.

You stand up put the chair you were seated on back to where it was. “We should get going, don’t want you to be late again,” you say.

Laura nods and quickly stands up, following suit. Just as you’re about to leave the room you notice something. It’s so little and so small that you wonder how it even caught your eyes. Regardless though, you’ve seen it, and there’s no way to stop your hand from already reaching out to brush a crumb off of Laura’s bottom lip.

You freeze when your thumb touches her lips, suddenly wondering what the fuck you’re doing. You’re looking into Laura’s eyes and she seems to be doing the same, except maybe her line of view is a little lower than your eyes. More about the mouth region.

How close you are to her suddenly makes itself known and you realize you can feel her breath against your hand. It’s hot and makes your throat turn dry. You swallow hard and open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. You’re in a trance, mesmerizing by how soft Laura’s lips feel, how pink they are compared to your own normally dark red ones. But most of all, you wonder how they’d feel pressed against your own…

Laura takes in a deep breath and you’re pulled slowly out of your trance like state.

You remove your hand from her lips and laugh shyly. “You had a, uh, crumb,” you say, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. Laura says nothing, just nods her head slowly.

_Great. Now you’ve done it, you’ve freaked her out. Good job, Mircalla. Good fucking job._

"Thanks."

You look at Laura and see the small smile she’s wearing, her eyes glowing. She doesn’t looked as freaked out as she did before, which is probably a good sign considering that’s at least the third time you’ve almost kissed her in two days.

But she doesn’t need to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading~ I promise I'll try to update sooner for the next chapter!


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